


I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent

by harlequin421



Series: Heartlines [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, I needed a break after all the angst in season two, M/M, Sex Pollen, and also almost no smut, fluffy-sort of-maybe, it was supposed to be smutty, sort of au after season one, turned out more feely than I expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 06:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlequin421/pseuds/harlequin421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Stiles gets doused with sex pollen, puts the moves on Jackson, gets locked in Derek's room, and no one actually gets to have sex (also Derek knows something, but he's not sharing with the class)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short, smutty, pwp, filthy sex against the wall fic. It turned into something sort of fluffy and feely that might need a sequel maybe...I don't know what happened...

 

Stiles wasn’t even really trying. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand that these exercises were good for the werepups (Derek’s word not his, though the term stuck especially since Scott still pulled the puppy dog eyes on him, and Jackson growled at him like a pissed off little puppy who’d gotten his favorite chew toy taken away and Lydia pounced on him like an excited puppy, so all in all a good name for them), it was just that he got tired of being the bait all of the time.

Derek was better at this hide and seek thing. He could keep them busy for _hours_. But not today, today he was doing that thing he did where he walked around in his thin undershirt drenched in sweat and lifted heavy things as he tried to make his house more livable. Usually Jackson and Scott helped while Lydia ordered them around and Stiles and Allison sat on top of his jeep and ate popcorn while watching them.

Stiles had tried to help, once, but he’d managed to make the hole in the wall even bigger and somehow knocked Jackson out with the hammer. Needless to say, Derek had banned him from ever touching anything ever. So he did the next best thing and ordered furniture from IKEA.

He still hadn’t told Derek.

It was supposed to be a surprise.

But Allison knew. She had helped him pick out the dining room set. Sure it took away a chunk of his college fund, but he still had two more years to make it up.

Besides knowing Derek, he was probably going to secretly give Stiles the money back, because he was a weirdo who couldn’t accept a gift without thinking someone wanted something in return.

Allison had also begun to try and teach him the art of archery, but Stiles had almost shot Jackson, and Derek had ripped the bow out of his hands, and that was the end of that.

Dude, Derek was really protective of Jackson. Must be because Jackson was Derek’s first born and everything.

Maybe he should’ve just taken the bite when Peter Hale had offered it after all. Maybe then he could have gotten out of being bait duty and could be you know helping Derek rebuild his house instead of not watching how his back arched when he lifted something and how his biceps were fucking huge and how the sweat made his white undershirt  cling to his chest and abs in a way that was way too obscene and really he should just take his shirt off, but every time that he did, Stiles made this noise like a strangled cat in heat that made Allison laugh and pat him in the back like if she understood what he was going through. And maybe she did. Not that he was going to tell anyone, about it ever.

He just really didn’t want to be the bait anymore. Because Jackson tackled him hard leaving bruises that were hard to explain to his dad, but lacrosse was a good excuse for something after all. And Lydia tended to lick at his neck which once upon a time would’ve been the high point of his life, but since it made Derek furious for some reason and then made him ignore Stiles for a week, it was just really inconvenient. And then there was Scott who pounced on him and smiled like he was a freaking puppy saying, _tag you’re it!_ before running off, and really Stiles wanted to get him a collar just in case he got lost chasing after some car out of town.

He was so lost in his thoughts of how the werewolves were actually puppies and not thinking about Derek at all, that he predictably tripped over a root or something and was pitched to the floor and then because this was his life now, he rolled down a small hill and landed in a pile of yellow flowers that released this pollen all over him making Stiles sneeze.

He tried to get up only to fall again and this time he knocked his head back into a freaking rock. He saw spots before his eyes, and sat up, and that was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.

When he opened his eyes the sun was still out, but it looked lower than before, meaning that Stiles had been knocked out for a few hours, and no one had found him? What good were these werewolves for, again? Did something happen to them? Stiles didn’t want to think that he’d been knocked out and someone had decimated his pack.

He sat up and felt dizzy. Did he really hit his head that hard?

He sneezed and felt his whole body shudder. He moved his legs and groaned as it put pressure across his crotch and fuck he was really hard. He pressed his hand against his cock and groaned.

Fuck, what had he dreaming about?

He stood up on wobbly legs and moved, but his clothes were constricting and he got distracted by the way the fabric felt against his skin and how his jeans rubbed against his thighs, and he had never felt this turned on before in his _life_.

He looked at how far he’d fallen and was glad to see that it wasn’t that much. He crawled up and was breathing way too hard when he reached the top. So either he was really out of shape, or those flowers had affected him in some way. He leaned against one of the trees taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself down, he didn’t need to smell like arousal and fear when the pack found him. They’d probably assume the worse, and really Stiles wasn’t in the mood to be judged by Derek.

He felt a spasm run through his body, and barely resisted the urge to hump the tree.

Man, those flowers had really done something to him. What if it was some of that freaky sex pollen shit that Poisoned Ivy seemed to be fond of, or even worse some Star Trek ‘fuck or die’ scenario? How was this seriously his life?

He had to go back to the pack. Derek would know what to do. Derek would know _how to do him._

And Stiles pressed his hand down on his crotch and bit down on his palm, and if only _thinking_ about Derek was doing this to him he didn’t want to imagine what actually seeing him was going to do. Stiles was ready to hump a tree, he did not want the shame and embarrassment that was going to come if he tried to hump Derek’s leg, and he just couldn’t handle it. He’d rather die out in the woods than let Derek see just how much he actually _didn’t_ scare Stiles.

He took deep breaths and tried to control himself. All he needed to do was get into his jeep and leave. They were probably busy tearing down and building Derek’s house. They probably had lost track of time and hadn’t even realized that Stiles had gone missing for a few hours. He could probably sneak out to his jeep and leave. And not tell them anything, and sure Derek would probably ignore him for a week. And Jackson would punch him in the shoulder because he was a douche. And Lydia would probably ignore him too. And Scott would probably call him as soon as he got out of the woods asking what was wrong. And Allison would probably figure it all out and give him a sympathetic look at school. But it was better than the humiliation that would come with them seeing him like this.

That is if he survived this.

His fingers tightened against the tree trunk and he felt as if his skin was too tight, everything felt hot, and all he wanted was to strip and dive into water. But what there was a part of him that was pulsing that wanted something else, wanted something more, _needed_ something more. He tried to keep that part at bay, tried to ignore it.

But then he took a deep shuddering breath and suddenly he felt even more lightheaded. What was that smell?

He took a deeper breath and would have probably started getting very intimate with nature, if it wasn’t for the appearance of Jackson. And Stiles had to choke back a sob because that amazing smell was coming from _Jackson_. He could see that Jackson had opened his mouth and was saying something but Stiles couldn’t hear over the rush of blood in his ears, and he was suddenly moving and backing Jackson up against another tree and he grabbed his jacket and tugged him close so that he could sniff at his neck, and god the smell was there strong and powerful and Stiles wanted to rub himself _all over Jackson._ But he didn’t because there was something wrong with the smell. It was so close to what he wanted but not close enough. He let out a whine and tried to lick at Jackson’s neck, to see if it would taste different.

But then he was sprawled out on the floor, and Jackson was breathing heavily and his cheeks were flushed and he looked a little bit embarrassed but much more like he was one step away from murdering Stiles, “What the fuck Stilinski?”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but what came out was an embarrassing sound, a cross between a moan and a groan, a _mogroan_ and because that apparently wasn’t embarrassing enough he tipped his head back and spread his legs like if he was a freaking buffet and he wanted Jackson, _Jackson_ to eat him, and really Stiles just wanted the ground to swallow him up, now.

Before Jackson could do or say anything else, Scott was there, and Scott kneeled right next to Stiles, and his scent wasn’t as bad, didn’t affect Stiles as much, and it calmed him down to the point that he could say words again. He gripped Scott’s shirt in his hand, and knew that he looked a little crazy, but he whispered, “Scott, help me.”

Scott picked him up and Stiles gladly wrapped his arms around his shoulders and buried his face in his neck. He could feel that they were running and he didn’t want to see where, because he knew that it was going to be to Derek’s and everything was going to go horribly wrong. Stiles wanted to cry, but it was muffled against Scott’s throat and the pressure of Scott’s arms on the back of his knees and around his back made him shudder, and he opened his mouth and bit down on Scott’s neck.

Scott made a noise, before he was being dropped back on the floor.

He looked around himself and saw that they were at the clearing right in front of Derek’s house, and his jeep was _right there!_ He tried to scramble to his feet and get to his car and get out of here before Derek…

But it was too late for that, and Derek’s scent, the smell that he’d been chasing on Jackson, was clogging his lungs and taking over his head and he turned and there Derek was stalking towards them, and his eyes flashed red as his nostrils flared and Stiles very nearly fell to his knees if it wasn’t for Scott holding him up. He turned his head into Scott’s neck and took a deep breath and felt him flinch.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and took another deep breath, and then held it in as he turned to Derek. “Fell into yellow flowers, pollen everywhere knocked me out, but I think it’s doing _something_ to me. I can’t control it. I hope it’s not contagious.”

And he breathed because he could not, and Derek was _right there._ And it was only Scott’s arm tightening around his waist that kept him still or else he was pretty sure that he was going to jump on Derek.

“Just let me go home,” Stiles gasped and Scott’s hand changed from forceful to caressing his side and when did his hand slip under his shirt? Stiles let out a breathy moan, and then pulled away from Scott. Because shit it was contagious wasn’t it?

Scott looked at him strangely before he realized what he’d been doing. He looked over at Derek eyes wide and Stiles looked longingly at his car. He made a move towards it, but suddenly he was being picked up and thrown over Derek’s shoulder.

And instead of fighting it, Stiles fingers scrambled for purchase and he gripped at the undershirt that was stuck to Derek’s back, and he tugged at it before burying his nose right there on Derek’s side and biting down.

Derek didn’t even make a noise, he just dumped Stiles into what felt like a pile of sheets, and Stiles inhaled and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, because this was where Derek _slept at night_ and he grabbed the sheets and pressed them to his face, and he was so busy trying to take his pants off that he didn’t even notice that Derek wasn’t there anymore. It was like if Derek’s scent was making _whatever_ the flowers had done to him worst. All he could think about was Derek, and the way he felt pressed against Stiles, and the way his mouth formed words, and how long his fingers were and his biceps and how he wanted to lick honey off his abs and how he wanted Derek’s cock in his mouth, gagging him and making him take it all the way in, and really Stiles didn’t need any more mental imagery than he already had!

He did notice when the door slammed, and he scrambled to his feet and went to the door. He tried to open it but it didn’t budge, and his hands were shaking too much from him to even try the lock. He knocked against the door, “You have to let me go home!”

He pushed his body against the door and gasped and let his head fall against it.

This was going to be bad, very bad, he was literally seconds away from saying fuck it all, and just jerking off in Derek’s sheets with his scent in his mouth, because there was something more going on here, than just those yellow flowers. Why was Derek’s scent so intoxicating? He didn’t understand. He wanted Derek in here, and he didn’t. He wanted him to stay far away, and he wanted him so close that he couldn’t tell where he began and where Derek ended. He wanted Derek to… He needed Derek to…

He wanted Derek to _fuck him._

He gave a strangled yelp at that and scrambled away from the door when someone knocked against it, “Stiles?”

It was Scott and Stiles really didn’t think he was above anything right now, “Please Scott, let me go home. Let me do this at home! I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be here anymore. And this is contagious! You started caressing my side, dude. I know we’re close, but we’re not that close!”

Scott made a noise and there was a growl, and that growl made Stiles shiver. He sunk down to the floor gathering his knees to his chest. He took a deep breath and groaned out loud. Suddenly Scott was talking very fast, “Sorry Stiles. Derek says the pollen’s effects will wear off in an hour or two. And that it affects werewolves differently, not as strongly or something. He says that you should take care of yourself.” He sounded very embarrassed and Stiles wanted the ground to swallow him, but he wanted Derek’s throat swallowing around his cock even more. He let out a whimper. “We’re all leaving to give you privacy. So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Stiles.”

Stiles hit his head against his knees. This, _this_ was an even better reason to have accepted the bite.

Fuck, how was this even his life?

\----

By the end of the first hour Stiles was ready to crawl the walls. He’d given in and had jerked off using Derek’s sheets. Burying his head in Derek’s pillows and biting down hard as he gripped himself and fucked into his fist. It was mindless and took all of two minutes before he was coming all over Derek’s sheets.

The refractory period was so fucking laughable. Stiles had come and then two seconds later he was getting hard again and Derek’s sheets still fucking smelled like him and all Stiles wanted was for Derek to _touch_ him.

He was sobbing into the pillows the eighth time that he came.

The sheets smelled like sex and Derek and Stiles had to put his fist in his mouth before he screamed and called Derek’s name. He stood up and stumbled to the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower will do him good.

It was pretty obvious that a shower was a really bad idea. It made his skin feel slick, and all he could think about was that Derek took showers in here. That Derek stood naked in here. And that was all it took for him to wrap his fingers around himself. He sobbed as he came, because it was beginning to _hurt_. And he knew, somehow he knew that what he needed was for Derek to be here.

Derek would take the pain away.

He crawled out of the tub and didn’t even bother drying himself. He walked over to the door and leaned against it, “Derek.”

There was a thump against the door, and Stiles felt like if he was going to fly apart at the seams. His cock was already getting hard.

“Derek,” he tried again licking his lips. “Derek, please.”

There was a low growl, and Stiles pressed closer against the door.

“Please, help me,” he whispered.

“Stiles,” it almost didn’t sound like Derek. Derek had never sounded so desperate before. And Stiles started scratching against the door turning the handle but something was holding it immobile. Something like Derek. Stiles let out a sob, and hit the door.

“Stiles I can’t,” and god his voice, just his voice was sending Stiles nerves haywire. “You’re not in your right state of mind. And besides you’re way too young. I can’t take that away from you.”

Stiles shook his head, “But I want you to. Damnit Derek, I _need_ you to. It hurts. I just want it to go away. Please help me.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Derek says but his voice is weak. And Stiles just really wants to be pressed up against him. He just wants Derek to touch him. That’s all just one touch. Was that really too much to ask for?

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop after one touch,” Derek says and his voice is so thick that Stiles moans and palms his cock.

“Then don’t,” Stiles whispers.

There was a deeper growl more like a wolf than anything, and fuck, how was that even hot? Was there anything about Derek that he didn’t find hot? He slipped down to the floor, and in his head he could see Derek wolfed out, like before he became the Alpha, and his eyes shone blue, and he could see Derek still wolfed out with his claws digging into Stiles’ pillows and sharp teeth pressed against Stiles’ mouth, and he could taste the blood, and he _wanted_ that. Wanted all of Derek, didn’t matter how he looked or how much of an animal he could really be. And that really should be a turn off. Stiles had thought about it before, and it had sort of turned him off.

But it wasn’t doing that now.

He groaned and let his head fall back against the door.

“Derek,” he whispered again. There was a knock against the door. Stiles took a deep breath, and he moved so that he was leaning against his shoulder, “Distract me.”

He felt it when Derek moved against the door and let out a small moan. He wanted to jerk off again, to see if Derek would resist him if he was this close, but it hurt too much. He felt chafed from the inside out like he’d been flayed, and the only thing that could make everything better Derek wasn’t going to give him.

“How?”

Stiles could think of three ways that distracting him would lead to sex, but instead of asking for them what came out of his mouth was, “Explain this to me.”

Derek sighed and Stiles hit his head against the door, maybe physical pain would put a damper on things. But he was wrong. All it did was send a wave of pleasure through Stiles body, and his dick twitched, and he closed his eyes and tried to think of the unsexiest thing he could think off- _like Mr. Harris in Lingerie_ -but while the image made him gag in the back of his throat, it still wasn’t enough to outdo the effect the plants were still having on him.

“It’s called _Fools Rush In_. It’s a white flower that’s coated in this yellow pollen that makes the hormones in the brain go haywire. It only affects you if you’re exposed to it for a long time. And I estimated that you passed out on top of them for about two hours. It should be wearing off, which is probably why you’re talking to me now, instead of consistently jacking off in my sheets.”

Stiles blushed at that, but he didn’t feel bad about it. Derek had locked him in his room after all.

“You’re also excreting pheromones. Which is why Jackson let you trap him against the tree before pushing you away. And why Scott started caressing your side. It would have gotten worst if you had been around them any longer.”

“What about you?” Stiles whispered not really wanting to know the answer.

There was another thump against the door, “Let’s not talk about that okay?”

Stiles didn’t answer.

He slipped his fingers under the door, and let out a shaky breath when he felt the tips of Derek’s fingers against his own. It felt like if someone had put aloe all over his nonexistent wounds. He almost cried with relief, “What is _this_ then? Because I can understand the whole sex pollen fiasco, but why does your scent make me feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?”

And oh, wasn’t that just great? Derek had no idea what he was talking about. He should just go crawl back into his bed and go to sleep. But he knew the second that he touched those sheets and was surrounded by his smell that he was going to jerk off again.

“In the woods, the only reason I attacked Jackson was because he smelled so good, but there was something off about his scent. I didn’t realize that it was you I smelled until Scott brought me here. And the whole Scott thing is weird, but his scent calmed me down a bit but yours geared me up and I just want to drown myself in it. I want to drown myself in you. And just now, when you touched my fingers everything felt so much better. Why is that happening? God, I know that I have the most embarrassing crush on you, but this is ridiculous.” 

“You have a crush on me?”

Stiles groaned and hit his head against the door, “Out of all of that, that’s what you picked up on?”

Derek made a humming noise, “Jackson smells like me because I sired him. He also comes here when he’s had a bad day and I let him fall asleep next to me.”

Stiles made a noise because _Jackson_ had slept in here, and he _had_ all over the sheets. And if that didn’t kill his erection nothing would.

“Scott could have a calming effect because you consider him to be your brother.”

And that would make sense, “But what about you?”

There was a long pause, “I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” Stiles whispered. And suddenly he felt very tired. It didn’t feel like he would die if he didn’t jerk off anymore. He turned his face into the door, “I think it wore off.”

Derek made another noise, “Go to sleep, Stiles.”

Stiles made a noise in protest because he wasn’t some little kid that Derek could boss around, but he stood up on shaky legs before he opened the door. Derek was sitting down on the floor, and his gaze felt like a hot bath all over Stiles body. And that’s when Stiles remembered that he was naked.

He flushed and Derek made some noise that would be considered a whine on dogs, and he pulled off his t-shirt and handed it to Stiles. Stiles mumbled thanks and slipped it on. It reached his mid-thigh, but covered all the necessary bits. He held his hand out, and Derek took it and tugged down until Stiles was sprawled all over him.

Stiles blushed some more and Derek just moved them until he was leaning against the wall beside the door and Stiles was using him as a bed. His legs tucked over his lap, his feet under Derek’s knees. He laid his head down on top of Derek’s shoulder and took a deep breath. The smell was still there, kind of woody, and piney and smoky and alluring, but it didn’t make him want to hump his leg, which was a relief.

He felt Derek’s arms settled around him, and Stiles sighed feeling the rest of the pain drift away.

And then he was asleep.

\----

When he woke up this time, he was still splayed out all over Derek, but Derek was snoring lightly, and he had moved them over to the couch at some point. Stiles felt a little bit confused because it was still dark out, but he didn’t know what it was that woke him up. He tried moving but Derek’s fingers had tightened around his waist. He felt the pressure on his bladder and realized what had woken him up.

“Derek,” he whispered. And Derek opened his eyes slowly, and smiled drowsily at Stiles. And Stiles completely forgot what he was about to say, because now he knew why Derek didn’t smile so much, his smile was fucking devastating.

“I have to go pee,” he blurted out, and Derek’s hands moved from his waist slowly.

“Hurry back then,” he mumbled.

Stiles stood up and stretched. He looked back at Derek who was watching him with that slow gaze that told Stiles that Derek would love to do nothing more than eat him, and Stiles just jumped back and hurried to the bathroom.

While he had been pretty shameless a couple of hours ago, he felt his embarrassment creeping in.

He peed because he didn’t want to add peeing himself to the scenario, and found his boxers and slipped them on even though they were a bit crusty. He looked at Derek’s bed, or pile of sheets and pillows and could make out all the spots where he had come on them, and was about to hyperventilate when suddenly there were arms around his waist tugging him back into a warm chest and he felt some of the tension dissolve but not enough for him to hang limply in Derek’s arms.

“Why are you freaking out?” Derek’s voice was a rumble in his ear and if Stiles hadn’t jerked himself raw a couple of hours before, he would be all up on that. But he was freaking out, mostly because he’d jerked off all over Derek’s bed, and of course everything that he said. Did he actually _beg_ Derek to defile him? Because that had to be his imagination, right? Oh god, did he tell Derek about the completely insane crush that Stiles had on him? He did, didn’t he? Oh god, why wasn’t the floor swallowing him up now? It figures that it wouldn’t given the fact that it hadn’t when Stiles was dying of mortification but way too aroused to care. Which brought him back to Derek, who was still holding on to Stiles, and breathing against his neck.

“Stiles, relax,” Derek’s voice commanded. But Stiles had always been really bad at following directions.

Derek turned him around, manhandling him and Stiles would have said something about it but suddenly Derek was breathing all over his face, and Stiles was breathing him in, and how was that soothing? How was that calming him down? What was Derek _doing_ to him?

“Nothing,” Derek whispered. “I’m not doing anything.”

Stiles rested his forehead on his shoulder, “Why do I get the feeling that you’re lying.”

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, and tucked him under his chin, and it was ridiculous, but Stiles felt safe.

“Trust me when I say you don’t want to know,” his voice rumbled through Stiles making him shiver. And he pulled back and gave Derek a half smile, “You know I’m not going to rest until I figure it out.”

Derek smiled again, and Stiles heart jumped to his throat. He hoped no one got to see that smile because he wanted it all to himself.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” and then he tucked Stiles head under his chin again, and Stiles took a deep breath closing his eyes and decided to leave it alone.

For now.


End file.
